Moments to Live For
by sunday nights
Summary: COMPLETE. Someone unexpected comes back on Blair’s wedding day and brings back unwanted memories that she finds impossible to just push aside. Will a turn of events bring the two closer together or push them apart? Chuck/Blair, as always.
1. Think of You Later

Okay, hi, everyone. I'm failing science, and I guess I thought I might feel better if I wrote some Chuck and Blair. Anyways, this was totally inspired by "Marry Me", the Tropfest short film winner. The link is on my profile, and it's absolutely adorable.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these lovely characters.

Summary: Someone unexpected comes back on Blair's wedding day and brings back unwanted memories that she finds impossible to just push aside.

Enjoy! (:

* * *

_So, quit your crying  
And wipe the tears from your eyes.  
'Cause this is "see you later,"  
I'm not into goodbyes.  
Watch the brake lights  
as I leave your drive-way,  
The warm nights, will stay beside me,  
No matter where I go!_

_Think of you later in my empty room,  
Where I, I will fall asleep alone.  
Think of you later in my empty room,  
Where I, I will fall asleep alone._

Think of You Later  
-Every Avenue

_Wedding Day._ Blair Waldorf's eyelashes flutter profusely, adjusting to the harsh, bright sunlight streaming in from her bedroom window. Her stomach clenches uncomfortably from her lack of food intake for the past week, but she waves the discomfort away along with the other wave of emotions that she doesn't need. Because today, June 16th, 2016, marks the ending of a reign. It's the ending of Blair Waldorf, and the beginning of Blair Waldorf-Archibald, and she's ecstatic.

Grabbing her white gown, she scampers down the stairs with the tail of the dress flying behind her. She giggles excitedly when she sees the makeup entourage and her bridesmaids all clustered in her living room.

"Serena! Iz! Penelope!" She envelopes them in a graceful hug and plants a kiss on each of their cheeks.

"Blair! You're getting married!" Serena screams gleefully. That's who Serena is. She doesn't care that her own marriage lasted five months. She doesn't care that she can't hold a man for more than a week. When it's Blair's time to shine, Serena forgets all of her own troubles and focuses her effervescent happiness solely on the bride.

"I am, aren't I?" Blair says in a awe-filled voice. She's dreamed of this day her whole life, and can't imagine it any other way.

The girls pop the champagne bottle open, but Blair doesn't drink any. Besides, drinks wouldn't do well on an empty stomach, and the last thing she needs is to vomit all over the groom. Suddenly, she's getting that feeling again. She knows it well, from her bulimic years. It's that odd surge in her stomach and dizziness in her brain, usually ending in fainting. She has to get out of here.

"Girls, I'm going to run out and get some more wine, we'll start getting ready as soon as I get back."

As she walks out of the stately building, a cold gust of air hits her. The sudden blast of wind almost knocks her over, but she catches herself on the door. Steadying herself, she's suddenly aware of someone standing in front of her.

"In all the years I've known you, I never pegged you as clumsy, that's for sure," the man says.

She looks up, and there standing before her is a broad-shouldered man. If it hadn't been for the thick eyebrows, the half-hearted smirk, and the deep growl for a voice, Blair would have never recognized the full grown man now standing before her.

"Chuck?" She is too bewildered to answer with their usually witty banter. This isn't Chuck Bass. Chuck Bass was pale, distressed, and confused. At least, that was the way she remembered him from seven years ago. He'd left without notice, and rumor had it that he'd been off doing business in Barcelona.

"It hasn't been that long has it? Even if it has, not many people have ever _forgotten_ Chuck Bass," he throws his trademark smirk at her.

"It's just… I mean…" Blair trails off.

"There we go. That's the usual effect I have on people," he says, amused.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Blair asks harshly.

"Whoa, whoa, no need to drop F-bombs. You're a lady. Ladies don't say fuck in public. Of course, from what I remember, you definitely say it in private," he winks suggestively.

She punches him. "Seriously, why are you here." This time it isn't a question, but a statement.

"It's my best friend's wedding day, of course I'm here," Chuck explains.

"You're not my friend. You were never my friend. As hard as I tried, you never wanted to be my friend," she tells him stonily.

"Whatever, B," he winks again as he uses her old nickname, "anyways, I meant Nathaniel."

"Oh."

-x-

They walk silently along the paved roads and Blair takes the chance to really look at Chuck. His hair has grown out some, and his once clean-shaven face now has hints of stubble on it. His pale skin is darker, and there are bags around his eyes indicating he's had little sleep. His black suit seems modest compared to his usual wardrobe of pastels. Of course, he still wears a signature scarf, but it too, is black.

She cut the silence and asks curiously, "Why do you dress so differently?"

"My wife makes me," he shrugs.

Blair's mouth hangs open in stunned silence, _Chuck Bass, the Upper East Side's biggest playboy, biggest womanizer, is married?_

"Hey, don't be so shocked. She's extremely hot, if that makes you understand the situation better."

"Of course you married for looks."

"And she's Hispanic."

"You speak Spanish?" Now Blair is really dazed. She is sure he's failed every single foreign language class he's ever taken at Constance.

"I mean, I can say basic stuff. I can say sex, bed, I want you, and shut up," he says, smirking again.

"Well, that's disgusting."

"We get along okay, I guess. She stays out of my way, I stay out of hers. We have sex, she's hot, and she's a good image for the company," he reasons.

"Good to know you're happy," Blair says stiffly.

"Eh, not really. But what's happy in the grand scheme of life? After all, it's not like I would have married for love," Chuck grimaces at the word.

"That's because you don't know what love is," Blair says harshly, suddenly recalling painful memories of her teenage years.

"At least you love Nathaniel, right?"

Blair nods uncertainly, something she's never done before when asked the same question.

"Look, I better go. Maybe I'll see you before the wedding?" He looks as if he's considering kissing her, but instead pulls her to him and embraces her in a long, emotion-filled hug.

-x-

Standing in front of the mirror in the chapel's dressing room, she begins contemplating everything Chuck said.

_At least you love Nathaniel, right?_

She knows it would only be right to say yes. After all, if she marries Nate knowing she doesn't truly love him, then Chuck would be right. Years ago, he told her that they were the same kind of person and she refused to believe him. Here, standing in her bathroom, pondering her decision of marriage minutes before her wedding, she realizes they aren't so different. If she doesn't love Nate, then she's marrying him for the exact same reasons Chuck is married. Digging further, she realizes she can truthfully say she loves Nate. Saying that she is in love with Nate, though, would be a lie.

She's only been _in love_ once. That she is sure of. Of course, in true Waldorf fashion, it was unrequited love, one-way, not returned. Maybe if he'd stayed they could have worked it out and she'd be Blair Waldorf-Bass right now, but he didn't stay, and she is about to marry Nate. Tears threaten to escape from her eyes as she desperately holds them in, flicking her wrist violently at the tears that have already fallen. Suddenly the door swings open with a bang.

"Just wishing the bride some luck. With Nathaniel, you're going to need it," Chuck says, poking his head through the door. Surveying the dressing room, he turns to her and asks, "Where is everyone?"

"Buying more booze," Blair points at the liquor store across the street, refusing to take her eyes off of the mirror.

"Hey, are you crying?" Chuck asks quizzically.

"No."

"If you need anything…"

"I would really, really appreciate if you left. _Now,_" she says, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Blair…"

"What? Nothing you say will make me feel better considering you're the problem," Blair says, quickly covering her mouth, realizing she's said too much.

Chuck walks over to the vanity bench and sits down. She wants to tell him to go away, leave her alone, but she can't do it. And just like that, his lips are pressed against hers, and he has one hand massaging her neck. She laces her fingers through his thick hair. Their tongues are battling for dominance when Blair pulls away.

"No, I can't do this. I can't do this to you, I can't do this to Nate, and I can't do this to me," she says fiercely.

"Blair…"

"No," she now has one hand massaging her temples, "I'm going to the bathroom, and when I'm back you better be gone."

She stands up and walks towards the door, hitching up her dress's long train.

"Blair, wait," Chuck says, stopping her.

"What? What could you possibly want from me?" Blair's voice holds high levels of exasperation.

"You think this is easy for me, Blair? I have to stand here watching my best friend marry the one girl that I…" like usual, Chuck can't finish the sentence.

"That you _what_ Chuck? What? That's the thing. You'll never say it," Blair turns away again.

"That I ever loved," he says so quietly she thinks she may have imagined it.

"What?"

"I think I might be in love with you," he repeats, looking away. Chuck Bass doesn't do romantic.

Her facial features soften for a millisecond, so quickly that to the naked eye it is as if she's mantained composure the entire time. Almost as quickly as they are there, they are replaced with a cold, hard stare. With anger building up in her chest, she releases fiery words similar to the ones Chuck had once used himself.

"You love me, huh? Well, that's too bad."

* * *

What the FUCK? I seriously have a problem, and it's called I'm a hypocrite. I'm always like wow, please write Chuck and Blair together to the writers of Gossip Girl, then I go and write this depressing shit.

WHY AM I FILLED WITH THIS ANGST?

Okay, well, review! Maybe, I'll be happy enough to write them together one of these days.


	2. Moon River

Hello (:

I had no homework today.

And I like this story.

So I decided to multi-chapter it, which I will go ahead and apologize beforehand for because chapter stories are not my niche. I'm pretty much better at those short, intense, _bada bing bada bam!_ kind of stories, so…

Enjoy!

* * *

_Moon River, wider than a mile,  
I'm crossing you in style some day.  
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,  
wherever you're going I'm going your way.  
Two drifters off to see the world.  
There's such a lot of world to see.  
We're after the same rainbow's end--  
waiting 'round the bend,  
my huckleberry friend,  
Moon River and me._

Moon River  
-Breakfast at Tiffany's

Even if he wants to, he can't take his eyes off the bride. From her tumbling auburn tresses, to her sheer veil, from the laced bodice of her satin wedding gown to the peep-toe Manolos resting on her dainty feet, she's an absolute vision. The only thing ruining the perfect bride standing before him is the man waiting for her. Nathaniel Archibald, his best friend, is the one gazing lovingly at her from the end of the aisle, and it hurts him so much when he realizes he had the chance to be that man. To be the man starry-eyed, mouth falling open at the sight of the woman he will be able to spend the rest of his life with.

His own wedding, although grander than the Waldorf-Archibald wedding, was more or less a disappointment. It'd been held in Spain, where his bride was from and he knew not one of the guests. As they spoke rapid Spanish congratulations, he smiled and muttered 'gracias', looking around for at least one familiar face.

This wedding is different. As he gazes around the room he sees his whole high school class and all their families. He sees Serena, smiling broadly at Blair, being the proud best friend and bridesmaid that she is. He sees Isabelle, looking not a day older twenty, and perfectly ravishing in her bridesmaid dress that complements her skin beautifully. He sees Lily, Rufus, Eleanor, Harold, and Roman all looking proudly at the newlywed couple. On the outside he wears a perfected smile on his face, but on the inside, the rarely-present vulnerability begins to wear his strong façade down.

"Now, you may kiss the bride," the minister announces.

Chuck looks away. Why not just take a knife and stab him right here? The way Nathaniel runs his long, tapered fingers down the nape of Blair's neck as he presses her to him, the way Blair caresses Nathaniel's golden locks as she further deepens the kiss, is starting to make the room spin a little for Chuck. He feels sick to his stomach, and can only reason that he's feeling jealous. But furthermore, he feels pain, and not his usual physical, yearning, sexual pain, but an aching in his heart. He had just admitted he was still in love with her, and somehow she manages to kiss Nathaniel like nothing he says will ever change her mind.

-x-

He still can't keep his eyes off of her. She's on the dance floor sharing her first dance with Nathaniel as Mrs. Waldorf-Archibald. His mind flashes back to the Cotillion ball, his limo, her bedroom, the house in the Hamptons. His teeth are beginning to hurt from him clenching them so hard. Somehow, this pain feels so much better than the burning internal pain he feels watching Blair and Nathaniel's perfected steps to_ Moon River._ Why is it that for seven years, his mind rarely drifted back to his high school years, but now as he sits alone at the Waldorf-Archibald wedding, he sees his entire high school career flash by him? The most painful part is picturing in explicit detail, every regret, every mistake, everything he wishes he could change.

"Hey, man, I'm going to get some air, maybe take a smoke. Mind watching Blair for me?" Nathaniel's voice cuts through his stroll through memory lane.

"Me? Are you…sure?" He can't trust himself. He doesn't want to hurt Nathaniel, especially for something he's done before.

"Yeah, no problem, man. Anyways, didn't you guys have some old high school thing? Go make conversation about that," Nathaniel grins at him.

Chuck's stomach tightens in agony.

"Sure," Chuck reluctantly agrees.

-x-

Chuck walks onto the dance floor, seeing Blair dancing with her father.

"Excuse me? May I cut in?" he asks politely. Well, as politely as Chuck Bass can be.

"Sure, son," Harold says, almost knowingly.

Chuck ignores Harold's gesture of knowledge of Chuck's intentions, and writes it off as a gay thing.

"Chuck, are you high? This is _not_ a good idea," she groans. He can hear the desperation and tender ache in her voice, and somehow this makes him feel better. At least now he knows he's not the only one suffering.

"Look, Nathaniel asked me to watch you while he goes for some air, just relax, sheesh. You bitches get crazier every day," he sighs, securing his right arm around her waist.

"And you bastards become more of a pain-in-the-ass every waking minute," she shoots back.

"Why thank, you. I take pleasure in my title as Chuck Bass, that mother chucking basshole," he winks. She flushes as she remembers all the ridiculous names she used to call him.

He pulls her closer to him, relishing every moment he has her in his arms. He'll never be able to do this again, for his sake and hers.

"Blair, just remember, if anything ever happens, I'll be here for you," he whispers into her ear, one hundred percent sincerely. If anything, Blair needs to know that he doesn't have to be _with_ her for them to maintain the relationship they have. Even though friendship will never be an option for them, she needs to know that he'll always have her back.

"Thanks, I'll miss you, you know," Blair replies just as sincerely, and once again tears spring into her eyes, knowing she's letting him go for the last time.

-x-

He sits in the back of his limo, chugging vodka, trying to mend his broken heart the way he did when he was young. Shot after shot, he realizes why he had acted in such a juvenile manner back then. Alcohol could fill the void in his heart then because he had never experienced what he was missing. Now he understands why he always feels an absence there. It might be because of Misty. It might be because of Bart. But most likely, it's because of Blair. Now, as he drinks, he still feels the emptiness there, clear as day, but the rest of his surroundings blurring into a drunken haze.

Suddenly. A swerve. A screech. A jolt. Screaming, coming from himself, something he's never done his whole life. It's a high pitched, _it's possible I die right here_ kind of scream, and it frightens even himself. He feels a crunch, and he struggles to breath realizing he can barely filter air into his lungs. Then, blackness.

* * *

Oh my god. What happened to Chuck? I hope I don't make him die, I _really, really_ hope.

Anyways, I know I'm not a very well-known writer, so every review counts, and I appreciate and will reply to every one that's sent. You guys are AMAZING.


	3. Stay Awake

Hey, everyone. I'm not gonna lie, but the amount of reviews were a little disappointing. Anyhow, even though I do love reviews, I love Chuck and Blair even more and I can't just stop this story. I'm like on a roll. Anyways, I apologize because this isn't my best chapter, but more of a filler leading up to the next one -wink- I'm also looking for a beta for anyone that might be interested in helping out.

This chapter is dedicated to broadwaybaby4205, who beta-ed this.

Enjoy! (:

* * *

_Stay awake__  
__Get a grip and get out, your safe__  
__From the weight of the world just take__  
__A second to set things straight__  
__I'll be fine__  
__Even though I'm not always right__  
__I can count on the sun to shine__  
__The dedication takes a lifetime__  
__But dreams only last for a night_

Stay Awake  
-All Time Low

She looks into the sparkling turquoise eyes of the man she has just given herself to. Unconsciously, she is wishing those eyes would suddenly morph into the squinty chocolate ones of Chuck Bass. She shakes her head. She can't still be doing this. She is a married woman now. Blair Waldorf-Archibald. No longer Blair Waldorf, Queen B. No longer Blair Waldorf, Chuck's flame. But Blair Waldorf-Archibald, Nathaniel Archibald's proud wife. So why does it still feel so foreign to say it? She supposes it's because they've been married all of four hours, but underneath she knows that is not the reason.

"Blair, sweetie, we should start getting ready to leave for our honeymoon. We can go ahead and say bye to our parents and friends, I'll meet you back here," Nate says, nudging her.

"Sure," she agrees.

She walks over to Serena and squeezes her into the tightest of hugs.

"I'll miss you the most," Blair says lovingly.

"Thanks, but we both know that's not true," Serena throws her an apprehensive but shrewd look, as if she can read all the struggling, wavering thoughts in Blair's mind.

-x-

Ten minutes later, the couple is loading their luggage into the trunk of their rented limo. Struggling with the large Louis Vutton, Blair drops it and groans. Her phone rings at that moment, and she looks around wondering if it could possibly be a sign.

"Hello?" Blair answers.

"Hello, is this Blair?" a man's gruff voice inquires on the end of the other line.

"Yes, this is she. Excuse me, who is this?" Blair says to the unrecognizable number.

"This is Officer Jacob Sarnoff. I'm with the NYPD, and your friend Chuck has just been in a severe accident. You were the first person we could reach," the officer announces gravely.

"_What?_"

The blood seems to have rushed out of Blair's head as she stares at the phone, willing it all to be a joke.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Is it possible you come down to the hospital?" the man requests.

"Yes, of course. I'll be there in five," Blair says, without hesitating.

Nate is looking at Blair like she's lost her mind, and in a sense, she feels like she has. She was just talking to Chuck minutes ago, and now he is lying in a hospital out there, in some kind of terrible state that even the officer wouldn't inform her of.

"What's wrong?" Nate asks, rubbing Blair's back.

"It's…Chuck. He's…in the hospital. There's been an accident," she informs her husband.

Suddenly she gets a sense of how Chuck might have felt the day Lily announced Bart's death. Terror mixed with anxiety and a hint of anger. How dare he leave her! How dare he say goodbye in a literal sense! Blair frantically waves down a taxicab, running towards it without waiting for it to slow down, with Nate close on her heels.

-x-

"_Goddamn it_!" Blair screams at the attendant, "I have to see Chuck Bass. I refuse to sign these fucking forms! Do you know who I am? I'm Blair Waldorf! I mean, I'm Blair Waldorf-Archibald, but I'm still Blair Waldorf, and if you don't let me in this instant I will sue you and the whole hospital and I'm going to get a shitload of money off you imbeciles! Let me in his damn room right now, or I swear to God…" Blair continues ranting and waving her hands. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the shocked look on Nate's face. He's never seen her so worked up about anything, even when they have sex.

As the attendant gives into Blair's continuous threats, she leads them down a narrow, white hallway. It's the kind of hallway in which clowns jump out of with surgical tools and the heads of their victims in horror movies. Blair's eyes seem to be searching for only one thing, and when she finds it, she lets out a grateful sigh.

"Thank you, you've been very helpful," she says to the attendant, rolling her eyes.

As they step into the dimly lit room, both Nate and Blair gasp in shock. In the hospital bed lay what must have been Chuck Bass at one point, but now seems to be just a mess of bones and blood. Blair sees stitches, casts, and bandages covering him and feels sick to her stomach. Not a throw up kind of sick, but a _how could I have let this happen_ kind of sick, and it's worse than she imagined.

Blair is unaware of the doctor that sneaks into the room as they gape at Chuck's mangled body.

"It's bad. It looks bad, but it's probably worse. I'm not a doctor that beats around the bush. I'll let you know that right now that this man here is in a serious coma. I want to say he'll be better tomorrow, but even you know that's not the case," the doctor comments while taking some blood tests on Chuck.

"A…coma? No, this…can't be happening," Blair says, falling to the floor into a squatting position.

"Blair, he's going to be okay," Nate tries soothing her, but fails, "Look, I know he's my best friend, but there isn't anything we can do while he's in a coma, so why don't we go ahead on our honeymoon and see if he's better when we get back. If we get any news while we're in Paris, then we'll fly back immediately," he reasons.

"_No._ We're staying here. Chuck needs me–us," she corrects herself, "We have to be here for him no matter what," she says, remembering his original promise to her.

"Fine, Blair, but really? There is nothing we can do now, we just have to wait," Nate persists.

"_You are being an absolute asshole._ You're best friend is lying here in the hospital, near dead, and all you want to do is go on that fucking honeymoon. Do you have a _heart_?" Blair spits angrily at him.

"Why do _you_ care so much? He's my best friend, not yours," Nate argues dubiously.

"Look, whatever. You should leave. I'll meet you at home," Blair sighs.

Nate turns on his heel and leaves, refusing to bicker with Blair any longer. That's Blair. When she's made up her mind, she's made up her mind.

-x-

It's almost 4 a.m. and Blair is still just sitting in the chair. The nurse had asked her to leave hours ago, but Blair refused. Her heart aches in a way she can only relate to from her senior year in high school when Chuck had walked drunkenly on the roof, prepared to plummet to his death with just a slip of his footing. Watching him slowly kill himself wasn't even half as bad as having him lay here possibly already dead, without any possibility of being saved.

She tries holding his hand, talking to him, hoping that will awaken him.

"Chuck, look, you can't do this to me. You can't leave me like this. You can't leave Nate like this. Hell, you can't leave your collection of six-hundred forty two scarves like this. Stay alive, Chuck. We all need you to stay alive," Blair pleads.

He just lies there, still as stone.

-x-

It's been a week now. Blair rarely leaves the room, other than for hygiene and nourishment. She watches over his body like a hawk and pounces on anyone who gets in her way. For some reason, no one hassles her. They all know why she is acting so maternal, and only Nate denies what he knows is the truth. People come in and visit from time to time, but still Blair just sits.

Suddenly, there's pounding on the door. It's a vicious knock and Blair slowly stands up to open the door. Before she can get halfway there, the door swings open. Standing in the doorway is a six-foot European girl with tangled black hair and enough makeup to supply a whorehouse.

"Chuck Bass in this room, no?" the girl speaks in a thick accent.

"Yes. Who are you?" Blair answers uncertainly.

"I am Isabel. I am Chuck's wife, no?" the girl trills with a flourish, with what is now clearly recognizable as a Spanish accent.

"Sure, what do you need?" Blair is impatient now.

"I need to speak to him," the Spanish beauty demands.

"Sorry, he's kind of in a coma, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Blair says with a dry sarcasm in her voice.

"Well, I need to know how much money he plans leaving me," Isabel says.

Blair's eyes flash darkly, and she points to the door.

"Let's talk outside," Blair suggests.

They walk outside and Blair explodes in a fit of anger, yelling things about God, the Bible, and gold-digging whore bags. The Spanish woman storms away, while giving Blair the finger. As much as Blair wants to fight back, her heart suddenly goes out to Chuck. This woman wanted nothing more than his money. How futile must Chuck's life have been to have wed a woman this shallow, this desperate? She doesn't even love him. Blair denies the pang in her heart telling her who really does love Chuck.

-x-

A month has passed now, with no sign of recovery from Chuck. Blair sees blackness every time she closes her eyes. She no longer stays in Chuck's room, but visits him daily. Every day she has a one-sided conversation with him, hoping that just like in movies, the sound of her voice will be so miraculous as to revive him. Today, she sits by his bedside, stroking his brunette curls, pleading to God that he wakes up.

"Look, Chuck," she starts, "I probably had millions of chances to say this before and I just didn't, but it's highly possible that I…" she cuts herself off. Chuck's eyelashes are fluttering and suddenly his eyes jolt open and he lets out a small cough.

Blair screams.

* * *

Oh good. He's alive.

Review (:


	4. Miserable at Best

Just letting everyone know they're in for a juicy Blair/Chuck ride so get excited!!  
-party-

**Author's Note:** Got a lot more feedback for the last chapter, so that's great, and thank you guys (: And if you've put my story on alerts, thank you too. And remember, leaving a review is the only way for me to find out what you did and didn't like.

Chapter dedicated to: SacredLimo417, who left me a fantastic review (: And of course, broadwaybaby4205 for the beta.

* * *

_Let's not pretend like you're alone tonight__  
__(I know he's there and)__  
__You're probably hanging out and making eyes__  
__(while across the room, he stares)__  
__I bet he gets the nerve to walk the floor__  
__And ask my girl to dance, and she'll say yes_

_Because these words were never easier for me to say __  
__Or her to second guess__  
__But I guess__  
__That I can live without you but__  
__Without you I'll be miserable at best_

Miserable At Best  
-Mayday Parade

Chuck squints. The overhead light pierces the blackness that he is surrounded by. Blinking a couple of times, he begins to make sense of the odd shape huddled near his bed. _Blair?_ He strains to comprehend his surroundings in the shockingly bright, fluorescent lights. Coughing a little, he tries moving to a sitting position, but finds that he is trapped by IVs and tubes running all over his body. He closes his eyes again, but now his ears start working, and all he hears is a terrified scream.

"Goddamn, shut your mouth," he hears himself say. Or is he saying it? He's not really sure. Anyhow, the deep, male voice has now silenced the shrieking. He opens his eyes again. The _thing_ standing by his bed seems to have a shocked look on her face. Blair, he recalls, Blair is her name. Then one by one, memories fly back at him making him fall back onto the bed. Where is he? What's Blair doing here? Where's Nate? Unable to so much as ask these questions aloud he simply murmurs, "Blair…?"

"Oh my God. You're okay. You're talking. You remember me. You…" she trails off, clearly still surveying his medical state, because even though he's conscious, he still looks pretty damn messed up.

"And you still talk too much," Chuck rubs at his throbbing headache.

"Look, you need to rest, I'll go get a doctor," Blair says.

"Blair, how long have I been out?" he questions, tiredly.

"A month or so," she tells him quietly, "we were all worried sick."

Once again, Chuck tries to sit up, but fails again.

"Seriously, don't move," Blair repeats, fleeing out of the room to seek professional help.

Why is she still here? Doesn't she know how much pain she causes him just by being here?

-x-

Another week or two has passed. Chuck sits solemnly in his hospital room counting the cracks in the wall. He's better now, no longer connected to IVs, but still not fully functioning. The doctors tell him they intend to keep him in the hospital for just a while longer, but according to what he's overhead, it'll be much longer than that. The doorknob jiggles a little, and then the whole door swings open. Blair walks in with what looks like food from a fancy French restaurant.

"Hey, Chuck. I know hospital food sucks, so…" Blair informs him, motioning at the bags.

"Yeah, it does suck," he replies, and promptly picks up a container of food and begins eating. "Where's Nathaniel?"

"Oh, he's…working. Or something," Blair waves his name away with what seems like distaste and catches Chuck's eye.

Chuck tries not to acknowledge the rapid quickening of his heartbeat at Blair's disinterest towards Nathaniel. Lately, he's been able to hold it in well, but sometimes his feelings for Blair become so strong they're almost tangible. Luckily, he's now accustomed to pain and instead looks away and changes the subject.

"So," Chuck begins, then realizes whatever he says will bring Nathaniel up, because he's just an unavoidable subject, "How's married life?"

"You should know, you're married," she snips back, annoyed.

"Eh," Chuck replies.

"Oh, I met that bitch, by the way. Not very fond of her, I'll just say that," Blair says, scrunching her nose up.

"What? Isabel was here?" Chuck says, clearly perplexed, "She flew out from Spain?"

"She wanted money."

"Oh, of course," Chuck nods.

"Wait, you know?" Blair looks appalled.

"Yeah, she married me for money, and I married her for sex," Chuck rolls his eyes at Blair, "Not everyone is all about their prince Charming and happily ever after shit."

"You can say that again," Blair mutters almost inaudibly, but Chuck hears. Chuck decides that subject is still dangerous territory, and stops talking to observe Blair's face.

He hasn't seen her in a month, but he feels like it's been years. Her eyes seem aged, as if she's experienced something tragic. She is beginning to get the traces of frown lines, which is something she swore she would never get. Mostly, she just doesn't look like the Blair Waldorf Chuck knows. She's wearing jeans, and her hair is tucked away messily. The little makeup that she is wearing doesn't highlight any features and he sees no headband on her head. Painfully, he comes to the realization that this might be because of him. Is it possible Blair is struggling as much as Chuck?

-x-

Weeks and weeks pass and even though Chuck is now at home, he can feel himself counting down to the minutes until Blair arrives. Who thought there would be a day when Chuck sat around waiting for Blair? Granted he is in a wheelchair still, but the whole situation just seems so preposterous.

That's when Blair walks in. Dressed in a skintight red dress and black heels, Chuck can barely contain himself and feels sickened at his excitement of seeing her. Years later, he is still betraying his best friend and this time it's uncontrollable.

"Hey, where are you all fancied up for?" Chuck tries saying casually.

"Eh, Nate and I are heading out for dinner gala thing," Either Chuck is a really good actor, or Blair is just oblivious to the effect she has on him.

"You look…great," Chuck says, thinking of all the leering comments he could have made before everything happened.

"Thanks, you look good too." Blair smiles broadly at him, then stutters to fix her slip-up, "I mean, like bloody and bandaged-wise, not like good as in 'you look good', but better as in not all banged up anymore."

Then she's sitting on the bed next to him. How did she even get there? She was by the door a second ago. It takes Chuck so much to control to convince himself not to look into her eyes. He holds his breath as she leans in to give him a hug. What for? He can only imagine.

"Thanks for being a friend when I needed one. You might not have been conscious but you were a hell of a listener. Much better than when you are awake," Blair whispers into his ear, sending chills up his spine, in a sick romance novel kind of way.

That's it. He snaps. Pulling her face down to meet his, their lips meet in a heart-stopping, time-warping, passionate kiss, with pent-up feelings erupting with every movement. He expects her to pull away, and he wants with every bone in his body for her to pull away, just so he will stop sinning like this. Of course his bones say one thing, but his heart wants another. The kiss deepens and soon their tongues are fighting a fierce battle for the win. After all, Chuck and Blair live for the game. This time, though, it's so much more than the game. They're both more mature, they both know what they have and what they want. Clearly, they want each other.

"Blair, we should stop," Chuck says with painstaking patience. He's panting heavily and his eyes are closed, knowing if he opens them he'll one again be sucked into the wrath of Blair Waldorf.

"No…don't…stop…" She says planting kisses down his jaw and trailing down to his neck. She's said enough. She has him completely convinced.

He pins her down under him and slowly peels off her dress as she works at removing his clothes. As they catch each other's eye again, he is unable to see regret in the deep sea of amber, only yearning and lust. He moves his hands against her in ways that he can't do with anyone but Blair as she gasps his name, begging for more. Within moments, she's on top and he's about gone. She looks even better from this angle and he can feel himself growing harder and harder with every passing minute. Then at an excruciatingly slow pace, she lets herself sink into him. Chuck's mind seems to numb and he can feel his body explode with pleasure.

-x-

They both lie down on the bed, stuck in a sleepless limbo. Anxiety fills the air thickly, and neither wants to say what they're thinking. Chuck almost starts to speak but is quickly cut off.

"Chuck, this was a bad idea. We both know that," Blair says. Something they never did in high school was talk after sex. It's still weird now.

"Then get out," Even though Chuck tries to maintain a nonchalant attitude, inside he's pleading her to leave. If she's gone then he won't be tempted to repeat the previous events. A knot is already forming in his stomach as he finds himself debating whether he wants her or wants her to go. Finally, without a word, they both get out of bed and he ushers Blair to the door. He tries to convince himself he's doing the right thing. She's married. He's married. It was for the best.

"You can't say a word about this, promise me. I'm married, and this was a mistake," Blair says, giving him a forlorn look.

He slams the door.

_This was a mistake._

_This was a mistake._

_This was a mistake._

When she had said those exact words to him in high school, he had felt fury, rejection, and irritation wash through his body. He decides that apparently that affect has not wavered throughout the years. Irritation turns to anger as he remembers his father, Bart Bass, repeating those exact words. He pours himself a drink and repeats the actions of the night of the crash. Soon his vision starts to haze into a blur of Blair's guilty pleads and his father's icy lashes. He drinks and drinks to create a shield around his heart. After all, especially in this inebriated state, he is Charles Bartholomew Bass, the biggest mistake known to mankind.

* * *

Poor Chuck -pets him-

Please review! Every reviewer is my personal favorite (:


	5. Love and Memories

Pretty much a filler chapter with a surprise twist. Also sorry for mistakes, because it's a filler chapter and doesn't have too much happening I didn't get it beta-ed.

**Author's Note: **All the reviews were fantastic and made me a happy writer, so I wrote some more! I love all of you.

Chapter Dedicated to: BookCaseGirl, who writes fantastic reviews as well.

Oh yeah, I love this song; it's from She's the Man, which is not by any means a deep, emotional movie, but it's pretty funny and very quote-able..."Do you like cheese? My favorite's Gouda"

Please read, enjoy!

* * *

_Love me faster than the devil  
Run me straight into the ground  
Drowning deep inside your water  
Drowning deep inside your sound  
Love me faster than the devil  
Run me straight into the ground  
Drowning deep inside your water  
Drown in love and memories_

Love and Memories  
-O.A.R

Blair's legs go out from under her, and she crumbles into a heap outside Chuck's suite door. She's shaking; not from anger, not from guilt, but from remorse. _This was a mistake._ It's painful enough for her to think it, let alone say it aloud. She is picturing Chuck's face as she had uttered the hideous words minutes ago. His jaw had clenched shut and his deep chocolate eyes seemed to flash with rage, but mostly underneath his cool exterior, she had seen anguish and disbelief as if he would have never imagined her pushing him away again.

She almost stands up again. She almost gets back up to pound on Chuck's door, to beg him to let her back in. Her legs turn to jelly just at the thought of him now, and she knows this isn't healthy. They're both married for God's sake! They shouldn't still be having sex late into the night. She makes the resolve to never think of Chuck like this again, and with that, promptly straightens up and leaves the hotel.

-x-

"Hey, baby, where did you go?" Nate mumbles sleepily as she climbs into bed, after showering multiple times to rid her self of Chuck Bass memories.

"I, uh…met up with Serena. I tried to call you, but it didn't go through, I guess," Blair lies.

"Really? The gala was boring without you," Nate croons into her ear hoping to arouse her. Unfortunately, she's had enough for one night and turns away in disgust.

"Not tonight Nate, it's late," Blair tells him earnestly.

"Blair, come on, we've been married for months now and we've had sex like twice," Nate begs.

"Well, if you wanted sex, you probably shouldn't have gotten married," Blair snaps back, annoyed at Nate's pleas.

"That's not what I'm saying, baby. I'm just saying that we probably should have sex. You want children, right?" Nate asks.

"First of all, I hate children. Second of all, even if I did, what would make you think right now would be the right time to impregnate me?" Blair rolls her eyes in the darkness. Nate's futility is starting to really work her nerves.

"I know, but don't you want practice?" Nate doesn't let go of the subject, despite Blair's obvious refusal.

"Nate, seriously, it's late. Let's go to sleep," Blair instructs.

"Fine, Blair. I'm sorry. Good night, I love you," Nate says, yawning and easing into his pillow.

"'Night," Blair begins drowsily, "I love you, too Ch–" her eyes spring open as she realizes her error, and quickly corrects herself, "I love you too, Nate."

-x-

Blair awakens the next morning similarly to her wedding morning. The sunlight is streaming through her window panes and casting dancing shadows against her comforter. The difference is that today she doesn't want to wake up. She lays in bed remembering the uncomfortably sensual dream she was having minutes prior. Closing her eyes, she replays the memory of Chuck's tongue erotically running down her neck, and she wills it away as hard as she possibly can. But Chuck is still there. Everywhere she turns, all she can remember is last night.

She calls Serena, because when faced with a situation, Nate isn't the best option to turn to.

"S," Blair says, using her old nickname, "I need to talk to you, can we meet?"

"Sure, no problem. Let me just get rid of," there's a brief, muffled conversation before Serena gets back on the line, "Pablo, I think. Want to meet here?"

"Thanks, Serena. You're the best."

Minutes later, her and Serena are sprawled onto her bed like the old days. Tears are threatening to leak from her eyes. Her jaw is trembling and even Serena, who has seen Blair in hysterical states, seems frightened at Blair's vulnerability.

"Blair, what's wrong?" Serena asks, pulling her into a hug.

"It's Chuck…I…we…" Blair trails off, trembling into a nervous wreck.

"Slow down, breathe," Serena instructs, "Tell me what happened."

"Yesterday, I went over, and…I had sex with him, Serena. Again. I don't know how it happened. I love Nate and I just…" Blair stammers pieces of fragments trying to form full sentences.

"_You did what?_" The incredulous look on Serena's face does Blair in and pretty soon she's full-out sobbing.

"I slept with Chuck Bass, _again,_" Blair mutters and wipes her tear-stained face.

"No, Blair, this can't be happening," Serena says of her once-stepbrother.

"I know, and it won't happen again. He just…you know how he is and he just…" Once again Blair can't formulate the words to describe her mistake.

"Look, you love Nate, so you have to stop thinking about Chuck. You're just doing this because you never had closure on your little high school relationship. Well, think of last night as closure, and you are going to have to move on," Serena says wisely as if she has had years of experience.

"Oh, yeah, because you and Brooklyn didn't have a five-year on-off relationship," Blair reminds her friend.

"I made a mistake and you can learn from it. That's what friends are for," Serena informs her.

"Thanks," Blair says, embracing Serena again.

"I'll see you and Nate together at the Ritz charity event tomorrow, okay?"

Blair nods.

-x-

She's shopping at Bergdorf's now, hoping at least her favorite activity in the world will distract her from him. As she examines the store for something to buy, her stomach sinks. Pastels, scarves, damn, even those black men's suits remind her of Chuck and she wishes that she could take everything back. She wishes she never went to visit Chuck last night. Hell, she wishes he never came back from Spain.

She stumbles as she knocks into someone behind her and turns around to apologize.

"I'm so sorr–" then she realizes who it is.

_Chuck._

"I'm sorry," she says again, then looks away.

"Yeah. Me too," he repeats, and she sees that he's purposely evading her gaze.

Trying to ease the tension, she attempts making conversation.

"So, will you be at the Ritz tomorrow?" she asks.

"Yeah, you?" he's looking intently at the scarf in his hand.

"Yeah, maybe I'll see you, there," Blair attempts a smile.

"Hopefully not," Chuck mutters under his breath, but Blair still hears. She can still hear his words ringing in her ears as he turns and walks away.

-x-

"Wow, Blair, you look great," Nate smiles at her.

She looks down and surveys her outfit. It's the perfect thing to get her mind off Chuck Bass. A gorgeous gown, Manolo Blahniks, and of course a charming husband. Somehow the painful twinge in her heart says something is off. The tender ache in the pit of her stomach tells her that she's still missing something.

As she steps onto the red carpet, she allows herself to be swept up into the blinding flashes of cameras and paparazzi. Most of the cameramen, however, are not pointed at Nate and Blair, but at a black limousine pulling into the curb. Bracing herself for what she knows is about to come out of the limo, she turns away in hopes of distracting herself. It fails when she hears the photographers and interviewers yelling, "Chuck Bass, Mister Bass, over here please. Over here! Over here! Who's the lovely lady with you?"

At this, Blair whips around just in time to see Chuck and a mysterious girl on his arm, strutting away into the Ritz-Carlton. Curiosity swarms Blair's brain as she stealthily maneuvers her position in Nate's arms to get a better view at the golden couple of the night. With extremely long legs, thick curly black hair falling down her back, and a short enough dress to rival Lindsay or Paris, the girl looks painfully familiar. Blair's eyes grow wide as she realizes exactly who it is. _Isabel._

-x-

"Damn, Chuck, that's quite a girl you've got there," Nate says, bumping fists with his best friend. Blair stands awkwardly beside Nate, avoiding eye contact with Chuck.

"That's my wife. I told you I was married, remember?" Chuck says.

"Holy…That's her?" Nate's mouth drops open.

"Yeah," Chuck says with disinterest.

"Nate, let's go dance," Blair pulls him onto the dance floor to prevent further contact with Chuck and his slut of a wife.

Blair falls into an even pattern with Nate and her own feet, moving steadily and gracefully on the dance floor as any lady should. Unconsciously, her eyes fly to Chuck now and then and she inhales sharply as she sees Chuck's fingers slowly sliding down Isabel's back. Angrily, Blair pushes herself closer to Nate, so close they're almost intertwined.

"Whoa, Blair, you want to bail on this? We can go home, if you want," Nate winks as he whispers into her ear.

"No, let's stay here and show off a little more," Blair says in a nauseatingly sweet coo. Of course, Nate is too oblivious to realize Blair is just giving Chuck a taste of his own medicine.

Throwing in some more complicated movements, Blair and Nate twirl into the center of the dance floor and glide with the music. Out of the corner of her eye, Blair suddenly sees Chuck flee the dance floor. Gracefully, she extracts herself from Nate's hold and pardons herself to the bathroom.

When she pushes open the doors to the dance room leading into the hallway, she spots Chuck leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette.

"God, Blair. Why the fuck are you following me?" Chuck groans as he sees Blair approaching him.

"Sorry, I have to use the restroom," Blair spits at him with frustration.

"You're just leaving poor Nathaniel hanging out there?" Chuck shoots back furiously.

"I could say the same about that skank. Sorry, I mean Isabel," Blair snaps.

"That's great. Now can you leave so I can continue my smoke?" Chuck says, waving her away with his hand.

Blair moves as if she is about to walk away, but continues to linger near him, "Can't we go back to being friends Chuck? I mean you're best friends with my husband so it'll be kind of difficult if we hate each other," Blair says thoughtfully.

"No, Blair. We can't be friends. In fact, I'm leaving for Spain tomorrow," Chuck informs her.

"What? Why?" Blair gapes at him.

Chuck takes a step closer to Blair. "Because every time I see you, I have the urge to do this," Chuck leans in towards her and presses his lips softly against hers. Thoughts flying from her mind, she leans into him and threads her fingers through his hair, continuing to deepen the kiss.

The thick, oak doors swing open and they hear a gasp. There, standing and gaping at the entrance of the hotel is none other than Nate himself. They spring apart from eachother, but Blair knows that even to the dense, dull Nathaniel Archibald, this situation doesn't look good.

* * *

What? Nate caught them? Who would have thunk it?

Oh wait, I did. (:

Review, my little cupcakes. Sorry that was creepy, I won't call you cupcakes again.


	6. Before You Go

Short, but very action-packed chapter. Boo at lack of ChuckBlair action last night. BOO, you whore.

I hope you enjoy! I had lots of fun writing this. In the end, it just kind of spun away from me so I hope you like the twist.

**Author's Note: **Just found this band. I heart them. This song. I heart it. Passionately so.

Reviews are love! PS. I _may_ change the name of this story, but if I do, I'll warn.

* * *

_For everything its worth  
Every breathe I take still hurts  
Maybe it's just the alcohol burning through my veins  
But either way I'll be missing you to death  
And if I don't get out of this alive  
Just know I loved you back  
But I don't owe you anything at all  
But I don't owe you anything at all_

Before You Go  
-Flight 409

Chucks stomach immediately drops as he hears Nathaniel bellow, "What the fuck are you doing Chuck?"

Of course Nathaniel would blame Chuck immediately, not considering that Blair might have taken part in kissing him. Chuck turns around slowly, hoping to be able to explain before Nathaniel takes his first blow, but it's too late. As soon as Chuck fully faces Nate, he sees a fist headed straight for his eye. He tries ducking but it's too late. With his eye throbbing with pain, he attempts to redeem himself from the wimp-ass fight he had with Nate in high school. Now, Chuck is as tall as Nathaniel and as muscular, too. He wastes no time releasing his fist, letting it land on Nate's nose. As he hears his best friend let out an agonizing cry of pain, he feels an odd sensation of pride. Wow, he had hurt Nathaniel Archibald. But, that feeling doesn't last too long as Nathaniel pins him to the floor and continues letting his fists fly at Chuck's head at a numbingly quick rate. Chuck tries to remember all the wrestling techniques he learned while in Spain, and takes a stab at the one where the person pinned below lifts the one above and slams them onto the ground. Unfortunately, the move doesn't go according to plan and instead Chuck finds his own head knocking against Nate's. It may not be pro wrestling, but it gets Nathaniel off of Chuck. Chuck then locates his target, and kicks as hard as he can. At that, Nathaniel keels over in pain, clutching his groin, and gives a tormented cry. Stumbling, he stands back up and makes an effort to move across the room to where Chuck is.

At this point, the room is beginning to fill with curious spectators. Paparazzi snap pictures like it's the Golden Globes, but all Chuck can see is Nathaniel charging at him like he is the bull and Chuck is wearing bright red. Chuck looks down at his ironic red tie, with small but significant blood stains and groans. In the background, the loudest voice of all is Blair squealing with alarm trying to round up people to break up the fight.

Soon few of the disgusted middle-aged men begin calling the police and threaten to sue them for damage. But before they can finish their calls, Nate just stops short and falls to the ground as if surrendering. Chuck can't help feeling proud again. He's just achieved the impossible: beating his best friend in something.

Blair runs between the both of them and starts scolding, "Are you guys insane? We're going to be all over _People_ and _US Weekly_ tomorrow. And you're both fucking bleeding like crazy."

To Nate, she takes a different stance, "You didn't have to punch Chuck. Besides, we need to talk."

"No shit, Blair. How long have you two been hooking up behind my back again? Even when we're mature adults this is still going to happen, huh?" Nate yells at her.

"Stop it. You're making a scene. Look, you two," she says pointing to Nathaniel and Chuck, "come with me."

-x-

They're sitting in the Waldorf-Archibald penthouse, both men holding ice packs to their faces, slightly ashamed. However, while Nate looks defeated, Chuck wears a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Chuck? Could you leave the room? I have to talk to Nate," Blair instructs.

"No way in hell I'm leaving," Chuck shoots back.

"Fine, we'll both talk to him," Blair agrees reluctantly.

"I'm still here, thanks," Nathaniel points out that he is being blatantly ignored.

"Look, I'm sorry, Nathaniel. I just…it was a goodbye kiss," Chuck lies, "Blair was just saying bye because I'm leaving for Spain."

"You both might think I'm stupid, but if you think I'm dumb enough to believe that then you think way too little of me," Nathaniel says, rolling his eyes.

"No, I really was just saying goodbye," Blair continues to give Nate false information.

"I can honestly say you both are great liars. But I'm like one of those lie detectors they have at the police station," Nathaniel says, squinting at them both with a suspicious glare.

"Can you two please work this out? I just can't deal with…" and with that Blair bursts out crying. Alarmed, the two men exchange a worried glance. Blair was crying. If someone had told Chuck that they could string those words together in a sentence, he would have laughed out loud. But now Chuck was just perplexed; nothing had even happened to provoke this fit of tears.

"Hey, Blair, just take a break okay? Go find Serena, we'll come get you when we're finished," Nathaniel says, ushering Blair towards the door.

"Promise me you won't start knocking each other out again?" Blair asks in a small voice, with her fists balled up.

"Yeah, we promise," Nate says reassuringly.

-x-

"Man, look, I get your into Blair," Nathaniel explains, "I think I've always known that a little, but she's my wife now and you need to get that through your conceited little head."

"Oooh, conceited. Big word," Chuck snaps back sarcastically. Couldn't Nathaniel tell that he and Blair had no chemistry? Couldn't Nathaniel see what Blair and Chuck had together? Even the coldest, cruelest hearts wouldn't keep them apart.

"Seriously, though, I honestly think it would be best for you to go back to Spain," Nate sighs.

"Blair doesn't even love you," Chuck spits viciously. Since when did Nate and Chuck argue like chicks? Chuck thoroughly believes that Blair Waldorf can make a man go crazy.

"Oh, but she loves you, right?" sarcasm oozes into Nathaniel's voice.

That stops Chuck. She's never said it but he gets the vibe when they kiss. He gets that feeling when she's boring her amber eyes into his. He knows it's love when she presses against him, asking for more. But he can't say this to Nathaniel. He can't explain any of this to him.

"Look, Chuck, I'm not asking you to stop having your little fantasy crush on her," Nate starts, "I'm just asking you to leave so that you'll stop being an interference in our relationship."

That's Nathaniel Archibald. He denies everything he sees clearly and refuses to believe it's there. Chuck believes that deep down Nate knows exactly how Chuck and Blair feel about each other, but stubbornness runs in the Archibald blood.

"I can't make a promise that I'm not going to keep," Chuck glares at Nathaniel levelly.

"Then I'm going to have to ask you to leave my house," Nate says stonily.

"Why don't we ask Blair if I have to leave?" Chuck asks, with a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

"Don't you have you _own _fucking life to screw over? Do you really have to bring everyone else into it?" Nate barks back at him.

"No, I prefer to screw yours," Chuck says in a gravelly voice, "Oh wait, did you say life? I heard wife."

At that, Nathaniel snaps and attempts to throttle Chuck, but luckily Blair walks in at that moment.

"Nate!" they hear Blair exclaim, horrified.

-x-

Chuck knows it's time to give up. He's been fighting his side of the war hard, but Blair isn't helping him, and he knows soon, that Nathaniel will win. Chuck understands enough about wars to know it isn't the individual battles than lead to victory, but the entire war as a whole. And while Chuck may have won a battle here or there, Nate, as always, comes out on top.

As Blair removes Nate's hands from around Chuck's throat, he decides to drop the ball.

"Look Blair, Nathaniel is the guy for you," Chuck explains cautiously, looking at Blair's reaction from time to time, "We talked and I'm leaving for Spain as soon as possible, so goodbye, I guess."

Blair's face seems to drop, if only for mere seconds, and she quickly regains composure.

"What?" Nate looks in shock, too. This is not the reaction he hopes to get. He wants them to be happy he's leaving; he wants them to throw a party that he's gone. But, their stricken faces are not convincing Chuck to leave.

"I really can't do this to your marriage anymore," Chuck says, avoiding Blair's heated glare.

"But, you can't just…" Blair hits Nate, "You told him to leave?"

"Well, yeah," Nate answers sheepishly, "Look Blair, I love you and only you. If you can't say that to me, then what the hell are we doing here?"

Chuck turns away and begins trudging towards the door, managing to get far enough away so that he can no longer hear their sickening lover's quarrel.

Then he hears it.

Straining, he hears her say, "What _are _we doing here? Look, I'm sorry Nate."

Chuck turns around just in time to see Blair sliding the glittering diamond ring back into Nathaniel's open hands.

"I'm sorry Nate," she repeats, "I do love you, but I'm not in love with you and I don't think I ever really was."

"This is because of Chuck, isn't it?" Nathaniel snarls ferociously, and Chuck could practically see the angry death darts he is shooting at Chuck's head. Chuck's eyes widen in anticipation for Blair's answer.

"I'm sorry, Nate, I really am, but I think I'm in love wi–" suddenly, without warning, Blair vomits onto the sparkling, marble floor.

* * *

Holy !%$&. What is wrong with Blair?!

I'm sure you've probably guessed, it's not too difficult.

Anyways, I'll update ASAP and remember even if you favorite or alert my story, I still don't know how you felt about it so I don't know what kind of changes I should make unless you review, review, review!

And if anyone's looking for a good read: _Brightness in the Shades of Gray _by **BookCaseGirl**; the link after fanfiction website name is /s/4800928/2/.


	7. Subject to Setback

Eeek. Please read. Apologies for cliffhanger last chapter.

Sorry I have to make that same apology this chapter.

**Author's Note: **Dedicated to Akimat for a lovely, lovely review. And as always, broadwaybaby4205 for the beta. Also, the medical section of this story is highly unlikely in the real world (I looked it up), but fanfiction is about fiction, so...yeah.

Enjoy!

* * *

_I still remember your eyes watching and empty body conditional soundtrack__  
__Cold hearted emotionless hit man__  
__Is this all you really wanted?__  
__Do you wanna dance a sweet disaster? __  
__We'll slow it down so hearts beat faster__  
__If nothing lasts forever we'll go on and on and on__  
__Tease me, tell me not to make a sound__  
__If this won't last forever then this won't last forever so kill me now__  
_  
Subject to Setback  
-Danger is my Middle Name

Blair stands over the bathroom sink, rinsing the thick aftertaste of the vomit out of her breath. She isn't sick, she doesn't ever get sick. So why is she throwing up? Then it clicks. The missed periods, the unstable emotions, the random vomiting. How did she not see this? Clutching her stomach, she slides down to the bathroom floor, feeling sicker than ever.

Pulling out her phone, she scans over the numbers. Her eye lands on one in particular. With shaking hands, she manages to place the call.

"Serena? I need you," Blair gasps into the phone just like she had years before, "And could you pick up something?"

-x-

Blair and Serena huddle over the white stick, shaking it over and over.

"Whose is it?" Serena finally asks.

"I don't know," Blair sighs, "I really don't know."

She closes her eyes, sitting down on the white tiled bathroom floor, and puts her head between her knees. What if the baby is Chuck's? He is in no position to be a father. What if the baby is Nate's? Hadn't they just determined that being married wasn't the right option for them? Blair groans as she hears Serena confirm her worst fears. She is pregnant.

-x-

Early the following day, the two women pull up to a stone-covered building. Blair can't risk Gossip Girl or any one of her extremely furtive spies seeing her visit a women's pregnancy clinic.

With the black hood of her jacket pulled over her head and large sunglasses preventing her identity from being revealed, Blair slips into the waiting room with Serena in tow.

"Hi, my name is Blair Waldorf," Blair whispers to the fat, old accountant who is writing her information onto sheets.

"Excuuuse me? Could you speak up?" the lady asks nasally.

"My name is Blair Waldorf and I have an appointment at eleven," Blair raises her voice slightly.

"I'm sorry, I still can't hear ya, sweets," she snaps her gum and points her acrylic nail to the sheet, "You can just fill out the forms because you talk like my little mouse of a grandchild. Her name's Hilda, you see? And that is English for loud, which is quite ironic because her voice just sounds like a little squeak when she talks."

Blair gives the lady a disgusted look as she grabs the clipboard and walks back to Serena.

"Doesn't it just sicken you when people who work at doctor's offices have medical problems? It's like a dentist with crooked teeth," Serena says, making light of the situation.

"That's funny," Blair says sarcastically.

Serena shrugs and looks away.

"S, what am I going to do? Either way, whoever's child it is, I…" Blair's eyes fill with tears again, no doubt due to her pregnancy emotions.

"B, don't worry. We'll figure this out. We always do," Serena reassures, rubbing Blair's back soothingly. A loud, deep voice interrupts their heartfelt moment.

"Blair Waldorf?" a stout lady yells into the waiting room.

Practically running, Blair and Serena almost knock the woman over in attempt to stop her from repeating Blair's name.

"I'm not really supposed to be here," Blair explains to the lady, looking around suspiciously.

"Oh, sorry. Come with me."

The lady, Greta, as the name tag states, leads them to a small room down a secluded hallway.

"Okay, what seems to be the problem?" Greta says, typing numbers into the computer.

"I need to know who the father of my child is," Blair says, looking away from Greta's disapproving eyes.

"I'm sorry, we don't perform that kind of tests," Greta informs her.

"Look, I know you don't. But I'm Blair Waldorf, and I need you to give me that test or else…" Blair looks menacingly into Greta's eyes.

A light bulb seems to go off in Greta's head as she realizes she is dealing with _the _Blair Waldorf, "I'm sorry ma'am, you're Blair Waldorf? My apologies, I just didn't realize."

Blair looks at the pitiful woman and repeats her question, "So, can you give me this test?"

"Yes, of course."

For the next hour and a half, Blair is poked, prodded, and blood sampled. Serena sits nearby giving Blair support, but Blair still feels anxiety flood through her veins.

As the clinic sends her off, Greta wishes her good luck, "Blair Waldorf, I give you the best of luck with this child and your data should be mailed to you within the next week."

-x-

Blair's eyes run over the label of the envelope sitting in her trembling hands. To open or not to open…? Curiosity overcomes fear and she steams the envelope open, afraid of the contents. She inhales sharply as she scans through the letter. A name. A name stands out boldly against the rest of the rambling letter. She feels faint as she pulls out her phone to make a call.

"Chuck?"

-x-

An hour later, Blair arrives at a small café near Brooklyn, which is the safest place away from the Upper East Side.

"Blair," Chuck stands up and greets, "What's going on?"

"Chuck, remember how I threw up yesterday?"

"Yeah, what was that about? You never get sick," Chuck says, raising a thick eyebrow in suspicion.

"Look, I'll explain that later," Blair begins playing with the frayed ends of her shirt.

Chuck's look of suspicion turns to confusion as he sees Blair's nervous jitters. Anyone who knows Blair is aware of her always-present confidence. Being nervous is definitely not her forte.

"All I want to tell you right now is that I'm divorcing Nate," Blair starts, "We both agree this is the right thing to do."

"And why would you do that?" Blair can see the anticipation in Chuck's anxious eyes.

"Because I need to. I don't love him," Blair begins and Chuck's shoulders begin to relax, "But before I go any farther, you need to know something."

Chuck's figure tenses again and he looks straight into Blair's eyes, sending chills down Blair's back. Only Chuck is capable of making Blair feel so intimate without even touching her.

"Go ahead, I can take it," Chuck laughs.

"I'm pregnant," Blair says bluntly, carefully examining Chuck's face for any reaction. His face seems to be frozen in an unexpected half-smile. Instead of horror, she sees shock and utter confusion. She senses his incapability to speak, so she continues.

"It's Nate's."

Expecting to see relief, her heart dips as his face begins to register fury and rage. His face changes from the look of shock to one of pure hatred.

"You're kidding me, Blair. Please tell me you're kidding," his eyes are pleading her to say that it's a joke. For a fleeting second, Blair considers taking it all back, pretending it was, in fact, a lie. But it wouldn't be fair to either of them.

"I'm not," Blair says, barely moving her mouth, "But I need your help."

"Why, Blair? I have no part in this child. I have no part in your life, actually. Why did you even tell me this? Did your dear, sweet Nathaniel bail on baby Archibald?" He spits cruelly.

"Chuck…" her voice trails off as he pushes his seat back and grabs his belongings, heading for the door.

"Have a nice life, Blair."

With that, Chuck is gone, leaving Blair to stare at his empty chair.

-x-

Nate picks up her up for dinner. Blair's desperate call to discuss about something "very important" seems like a reconciliation talk, so he agrees.

"Nate," Blair greets with no emotion.

"Hi, Blair," Nate responds, uncertainty washing over his face.

"We need to talk, now."

"Can it wait until we get to the restaurant?" Nate asks.

"Not really."

"Fine, go ahead, let's talk," Nate groans as Blair's eyes darken the mood. He pulls over to the side of the road and turns the engine off.

"I'll just go out and say it," Blair starts hesitantly, "I'm pregnant."

"_What the fuck?_" Nate's reaction is much more expected, "I'm going to beat the hell out of Chuck right now. Get out, I'll meet you later."

"No, stop. It isn't…his," Blair seems to have trouble saying his name.

"What?" Nate's fury turns to disbelief.

"It's yours," Blair says brusquely.

His facial features turn upwards into a daunting smile, "Blair, this is great," Nate exclaims.

"I thought we agreed divorce was the best option," Blair protests.

"Now that we're having a baby, maybe being a family is our best option," Nate tries convincing Blair.

"No, look. I'm not staying married to you because I'm knocked up," Blair's eyes flash in the dim atmosphere of the car.

"Then what do you plan on doing?" Nate asks, almost mockingly, "You want to ask Chuck to help?"

"Yes. Chuck will help," Blair says with fierce determination, not realizing the words coming out of her mouth "In fact, can you take me there right now?"

With a chuckle, Nate responds, "Sure." As he reignites the engine, he lets out another low chortle, "Besides, I know you're bluffing."

-x-

Blair waits in front of room 1812 similarly to her high school days.

Knocking loudly, she presses her eye against the peephole, "Hello?"

Silence is her only answer.

She waits for ten minutes in front of the hotel room, until finally realizing a better solution. Taking the elevator to the lobby, she rushes to the front desk.

"Hello? Can you tell me if Charles Bass in room 1812 is in?"

The man gives her a skeptic look, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bass has checked out. He left for the airport hours ago."

Blair's stomach surges something sour.

* * *

WAHHH. Not my best. WTF did Chuck go?

Review, you guys are awsh. (Yes, I stole this word from AH17)


	8. You Left Me

Yup, Chapter 8 (:

There's only 2 chapters left, so yeah. Anyways, reviews are always spectacular and I don't think you understand how I excited I get when I see that people have been reading my story.

**A/N**: As always, thanks Najet for the beta. And remember to check out BookCaseGirl's story _Brightness in the Shades of Gray. _(:

* * *

_Everything looked fine from here  
Everything looked more than clear  
But now you are gone  
And I'm still here_

So check it out (so check it out)  
I wrote it down (I wrote it down)  
In case you ever left us out  
And baby you can't fire me  
'Cause I quit right now

You Left Me  
-The Maine

As the plane circles tumultuously through the turbulence, Chuck is jolted awake. It may be the violent plane ride that keeps him from sleep, but more likely than not, it's Blair Waldorf. The girl haunts his every waking moment. Even as he lingers between the thin line of consciousness and sleep, just the mere thought of Blair's stricken face as he left the restaurant, shakes him out of his trance.

Though he considers going back to New York and apologizing, his pent up fury prevents him. Blair is pregnant. Blair is pregnant with Nate's baby. Chuck knows he can't just interrupt her life for something as unimportant as _love_. Besides, Chuck has better things to do.

He ignores the fact that for one fleeting moment, when Blair had initially announced her pregnancy, he had been almost happy. He ignores the fact that Blair had seemed crushed when she saw his clear refusal. He especially ignores the fact that he had considered helping Blair through her pregnancy with his best friend's child. Instead, he focuses on a lie. Blair doesn't need him; Nathaniel is there. Even as he thinks it, he knows he's lying to himself.

As he lies in blatant misery, he feels that ache in his heart again. _Love conquers all? What a bunch of bullshit._

-x-

He winces as the limousine pulls up to a grand mansion in the heart of Barcelona. This is it. This is home. The inside is even worse. With pompous furniture and paintings, a la Isabel, the house looks like a museum. People, Chuck concludes, shouldn't be forced to live in a museum where tiptoeing is the law and clumsiness is shunned.

"Isabel?" Chuck calls into the vast open area.

"Hola? Chuck?" Chuck hears Isabel holler back at him.

Then he hears giggles.

"Come up, Chuck. Hurry," Isabel tells him.

He trudges unenthusiastically up the stairs to the master bedroom. As he opens the doors, he gasps in disbelief at the two figures sitting on his bed.

Perched daintily on his bed are Isabel and her best friend, Gloria, completely naked, with coy come-hither looks on their faces.

"Isabel…What are you…doing?" Chuck stutters.

"Welcome home, husband," Isabel purrs as she stands up to greet him.

"Hey, Isabel. Hi…Gloria. Uhh…I'm just going to go take a shower and…" Chuck starts to leave the room, but is stopped by Isabel pressing herself against him.

"Chuck, do not go. You want to have some fun, no?" she winks in a somewhat seductive way and he swallows hard, feeling his mouth dry up. Having sex with Isabel and her friend, no less, after a seven hour flight thinking about Blair, seems about as appealing as rubbing his bare ass against a sheet of sandpaper. Besides, he doesn't want to embarrass himself in case he can't…well, perform.

"Isabel, come on. I just got home. How about later. And without Gloria, maybe?" He avoids Isabel's withering glare. In all the years they have known each other Chuck has never been the one to turn down sex.

"Is this about that _la virgen_?" Isabel mocks Blair in Spanish and Gloria snickers along. Anger boils inside Chuck, but instead of pushing him away from Isabel, the rage forces him towards her.

His disgust with Isabel also forces him to a two hour threesome with her and Gloria.

-x-

Chuck sips coffee in the big, red chair by the fire. Isabel sits near him, reading _Vogue_.

"Isabel, we need to talk," Chuck begins.

"Habla," Isabel commands.

"What? Whatever. Anyways, look, I think…we need to end this."

"Qué? End what?" Isabel looks up at him with furious eyes.

"You. Me. This marriage," Chuck tells her.

"_What?_ End marriage? Because of Gloria?" Isabel shouts, clearly offended.

"Huh? No. Wait, what are you talking about?" Perplexity floods Chuck's face.

"Me and Gloria, right? What are you saying?" Isabel cocks her head, looking every bit confused as Chuck now.

"I was saying I don't think we should be married, because no one can have a marriage based on sex," Chuck explains, "Oh and, you and Gloria what?"

"Oh, never mind," Isabel averts her eyes from Chuck's before continuing, "We don't just have sex. We talk important things."

Chuck snorted back laughter, "What are you smoking, Isabel? I hardly know your maiden name."

"So? My last name is now Bass and it doesn't matter what my last name was," Isabel's eyes are growing darker with each word.

Chuck can feel his own hair turning gray and frown lines growing on his face, so he gives up arguing with her.

-x-

He's in his study at 1 a.m. trying to formulate a letter to Blair. He wants to explain how he fucked up so bad. He wants to fix everything between them. Oh, how badly he wants to mend their relationship.

_Blair._

Too harsh.

_Dear Blair._

Too sentimental.

_Hey Blair._

Too tacky.

Annoyance surges through his body. What is he? A seventeen year old hormonal little teenager again? Why is a letter so difficult to write?

_To Blair, _

_I know I left you again. I'm sorry. _

_You and Nate deserve to be married and I apologize for interrupting that. I apologize for all the trouble I caused since going to New York. That was one of the stupidest things I've ever done in my life, and I can tell you right now I've done a hell of a lot of stupid things. _

_I could have never given you what Nathaniel has already given you. We both know that._

_Please forgive me for leaving._

_Please forgive me for creating such a disturbance in __yours and Nate's__ relationship._

_It's best if we forget about each other._

_Always,  
__Chuck._

He stares at the words until they become just a mess of black ink. In careful scrawl, he addresses it, stamps it, and seals it closed. Then he shreds it.

-x-

Days later, Chuck still can't forget about her. How she feels, pressed against him. The way she screamed his name, begging, pleading for him to give her more. He never expected to just have all thoughts of Blair vanish from his mind, but he was hoping they would be limited. Now he knows how wrong he was. Blair is, among many other things, utterly unforgettable.

He gets back from work early because let's face it, Bass Industries now points directly at Blair. In fact everything reminds him of Blair. Whether it be restaurants, hotels, or especially the darkly tinted limousines parked on the side of the road, thoughts of Blair cloud his mind and work is clearly not an option.

"Isabel? We're going out to dinner," he says, as he opens the door to the spacious front hall.

No answer.

He hears giggles just like the ones he had heard on his first day back to Spain. Chuck follows the copious, thunderous squealing to their bedroom. Afraid of being ambushed again, he cautiously opens the door, just a crack. He blinks a couple of times to ensure that his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

There, on the bed, are Isabel and Gloria, being much, much more than best friends.

-x-

How did his life get like this? He sits on his chair with his eyes closed, massaging his forehead. How much shit does a person need to do to have God hate him enough to fuck his life like this? What did he do to earn a lesbian wife? It was so Ross from _Friends_. What had he done to deserve to be in love with his best friend's wife? It was so much like a soap opera drama he could puke. He uses the Chuck Bass patented move to deal with stress.

Step one: Drink like there's no fucking tomorrow.

He's drunk now. Not even his normal sullen, brooding drunk, but a loud, obnoxious drunk. He isn't really positive if he's still in his study, or if he's wandered out onto the road. Stumbling, he falls into a bush filled with flowers. Upon impact, a group of butterflies flutter away. Chuck watches them leave the bush, one by one, and winces as he remembers his words. _There's something fluttering._

He wants to move onto step two now, but he's so damn drunk, he doesn't even remember it.

Instead, he gets chauffeured to the nearest bar and finds a hooker. Any hooker. In his blurred, drunk state, the one he chooses resembles Blair enough for him to pretend.

"Hey," the scantily clad girl whispers into his ear.

It's just as unappealing as Isabel's voice. It isn't Blair's.

"Hey, slut. You speak English?" Chuck growls.

She nods and pushes herself closer to him.

"Just find a fucking room, bitch," Chuck slurs at her.

"Oooh, feisty. I like 'em that way," the girl leads him towards a room above the bar.

"God, how fucking far is this fucking room?" Chuck complains as they plod upstairs.

"It's pretty close," the girl says in a raspy voice.

Chuck squints and leans in closer.

Oh, fuck. It's a dude.

-x-

It's only been just over a week since he left New York, but it feels like years. Instead of relief that he's left that life behind, all he feels is regret. What if questions race through his mind every time he thinks of New York Chuck. Barcelona Chuck does nothing but drink through the day then return home to screw his lesbian wife.

Somewhere along his fifty drinks, he pulls out his high school yearbook. He isn't even aware what he's reading. His eyes look at the massive blur clouding the page until he is able to focus on one person in particular. Groaning, he throws the book across his study. It crashes into the lamp, and both fall to the floor with a glorious bang. Excited, he throws his glass at the window. The ear-splitting shatter opens up an undiscovered territory in Chuck Bass's world of emotions. A single tear slides down his cheek.

Frustrated, Chuck yells at the top of his lungs, ignoring the pain firing in his chest, "I'm Chuck Bass!"

There's no Blair telling him she cares this time. All he hears is the_ chhhh_-ing sound of the light bulb that he had exploded when he threw the book at the desk lamp.

He's done denying. He's finished.

Clumsily, he locates his phone and dials his driver.

"Take me to the helipad."

* * *

Mother eff. What the hell is he doing now?

DEAR GOD.

Review, because I LOVE YOU.

* * *


	9. I Caught Myself

**Author's Note:** Apologies for short/not very well-written chapter. It's a filler, and I need to finish this before I can write my finale chapter, which is the next one. I'm super excited for it, because…well, I'm not going to spoil it. More apologies for mistakes, as I didn't get this beta-ed. My beta needs to work on her finals more than she needs to review this chapter, because like I said, it's a filler.

As always, reviews are what I live for, so do that, please! (:

* * *

_Now when I caught myself  
I had to stop myself  
I'm saying something that  
I should have never thought_

_Of you, of you  
You're pushing and pulling me  
Down to you  
But I don't know what I want  
No, I don't know what I want_

I Caught Myself  
-Paramore

Blair stares at her plate filled to the brim with pot roast and vegetables. Her stomach growls in hunger, but she doesn't eat. Besides, how long will it be before she starts showing pregnancy weight? Carelessly, she picks at the bits of food on her dinner plate. She looks across the table at Nate, who drones on and on about the company he plans on funding to ensure "their baby's" ivy league college career.

"Nate," Blair moans, "please talk about something else."

"Why?" Nate looks confused, as if it would be absurd to do so.

"Because I don't want to keep this fucking baby, that's why," Blair snaps at him. Or at least she wishes she did. Instead she smiles politely and replies, "Well, it's just that we haven't talked about anything else except for this baby in a long time."

Blair can't afford to make enemies; With no one but Nate and Serena here for her, she can't lose either of them.

"Fine, then," Nate grumbles, "How is Eleanor's company doing?"

"It's doing pretty well. Since the economy is doing well, more people can actually afford the ridiculous prices for an Eleanor Waldorf original," Blair speaks with experience of a Business Degree from Yale.

"That's good," Nate replies courteously.

Awkward silence ensues.

-x-

A week of awkward dinners pass, until Blair has the courage to speak up.

"Nate," Blair states bluntly at dinner, "I don't want this baby."

The look on Nate's face is one of sheer disbelief.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I don't want a baby with you. I don't want a baby with anyone at this point in my life," Blair explains to him.

"If I was Chuck you wouldn't be saying that," Nate's eyes cut cruelly at her.

_Chuck._ His name brings back that hollow ringing sound in the back of her head that she's been trying to ignore all week. He had left her. Again. He'd been ignoring her calls. He was, in two words, being Chuck Bass. And as much as she wants to go back to being the cool-exterior, emotion-void Blair Waldorf that she used to be, it just isn't possible anymore. The wound is open and can't be sealed. And after everything they have been through together? He would just pick up and leave? Her mind can't even begin to wrap around the reason for his rash actions. Moreover, she can't wrap herself around the reason she had let herself become this close, this vulnerable, with _Chuck Bass_ again. Blair shakes her head; she knows she'll never learn.

"If you were Chuck, I would be out the door before you could say another word," Blair fights back harshly, ignoring the tears welling up in her eyes. If he wants to play the game, she'll play along. If he wants to ignore his emotions, so will she. Blair might have set the trends at school, but when it comes to Chuck Bass, she's ever-so-willing to do it his way.

"But you still don't want this baby?" Nate looks confused. _Shocker._

"No, I don't. I'm twenty-five. I can hardly handle my own life, let alone someone else's," Blair grits her teeth. She will not let Chuck win. She will not.

"Look, why don't we talk about it later. With Serena? She might be able to convince you," Nate compromises. He still won't let go of his dream of the happy family: Blair, sitting in front of the fire, holding the baby; Nate reading the newspaper in his big sofa.

"Fine," Blair agrees, attempting to escape the table before the tears beat her to it.

-x-

They're clustered onto Serena's bed, just like old times. _Minus Chuck_, Blair adds silently in her head. Angrily pushing his name out of her mind, she tunes into the conversation.

"…And she doesn't want to keep the baby," Nate explains to Serena.

Serena looks thoughtfully at Blair. Picking up a hairbrush and acting as if it were a microphone, she questions Blair, "Do you have a reason for not wanting to keep the baby?"

"Well―" Blair begins, but Nate cuts her off.

"Because it's not Chuck's," Nate grimaces at his name. Blair looks away.

"Is this true?" Serena asks in an annoying psychiatrist voice. Screw Serena for being amused at Blair's misery.

"No. I'm just too young to need a baby in my life," is Blair's offhand answer.

"And what do you have to say about that?" Serena turns to Nate, giggling into the brush.

"We're married. The only thing we should be focused on is having a family," Nate answers.

"Blair?" Serena points the brush towards Blair.

"Serena, stop it," Blair glares at Serena's impromptu interview show.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just trying to help," Serena replies defensively.

"I know…" Blair feels guilty for snapping at Serena, "I've just got a lot of things on my mind."

"So can we keep the baby?" Nate asks impatiently.

Blair's reply is only a sigh. How can she argue with a whining grown man and woman whose idea of funny is a hairbrush interview?

-x-

The magazine is spread on the seat beside her. She's at the women's clinic again, this time, without Serena.

A headline screams at her, "_Chuck Bass and his mistress attending Ritz gala_."

Her eyes are blurring. They're not tears, she convinces herself, it's just the lack of food she's had for the past week. Chuck looks flawless. Not a dark hair out of place. Clean, fresh black suit. Smoldering eyes staring back at her as if they can see into her soul. Damn Chuck and his perfection.

She flips the page and the title staring back at her makes her want to vomit.

"_Is Chuck Bass's wife pregnant?_" No. She refuses to believe it. It's a trashy magazine anyway. There's no way… Her mind freezes as she remembers Chuck's methods of revenge. He _would _go as far as to impregnate his wife to make a statement. An "I don't care if you're pregnant, Blair, but now I've got my own baby," kind of statement.

Suddenly, she can hardly breathe. She's unsuccessfully gasping for a little air in between sobs. They're loud cries, desperate cries. The kind of crying that leaves smudged eyeliner and dripping mascara. The kind of crying that leaves that usually leads to a chain-reaction of sobbing. It's exactly the type of crying Blair has been avoiding. Only one emotion is left in her after the salty tears have dried to her face, as if she has cried them all away. All that's left is relief.

-x-

It's unbelievably quiet as Blair and Nate sit down to have a talk.

"Nate…" Blair starts, voice quivering.

"Blair, I know what you want to say," Nate jumps in, "But have you really thought about it? Have you really decided that abortion is the best thing to do?"

"Abortion? No. That has nothing to do with what I want to talk about," Blair frowns, eyes downcast.

"Adoption then? You're just going to give our child away?" Nate accuses.

"No, Nate. I'm not even talking about the baby," Blair's eyes grow dark at the word.

"Then what?" the tone of Nate's voice turns softer.

"I…think we should get a divorce," Blair says adamantly.

"_What?_" Confusion clouds Nate's eyes, and Blair can tell that he is caught completely off-guard.

"Nate, we don't love each other," Blair reasons.

"If you don't love me, fine. But speak for yourself, please," Nate spits.

"You don't love me, Nate. I know what love is and―" Again she is cut off.

"You know what love is? From what? From the lies Chuck tells you? You think he loves you? He loves drugs. He loves sex. He loves prostitutes. You? He doesn't love. Saying Chuck can love is like saying elephants can fly," Nate spews angrily at Blair.

"Love can be one-sided," Blair replies quietly.

"You don't love Chuck," Nate argues.

"If I don't love Chuck, I sure as hell don't love you," Blair fires back.

"I can give you everything that Chuck can't," The intensity in Nate's voice scares Blair a little.

"Except―" Blair tries to say.

Without warning, she is on the floor, clutching her stomach in despair. Pain shoots through her body. She's lying on the floor, writhing in agony. Her vision begins to blur as she sees Nate's worried face through the haze.

"Hospital," she manages to choke out.

* * *

Eh. Sorry for the drama. It's necessary for the next chapter. You can take a stab at what's wrong with Blair, if you want to. It's going to be a surprise!

REVIEWS MAKE ME SMILE. Happy Michelle, makes for Happy Ending of Story. Nah, I'm just playing, I won't base the conclusion of my story on the amount of reviews I get.


	10. Pray for Rain

**Author's Note: **I worked so damn hard on this. Most chapters take a day; This one took almost three to perfect. I actually started planning a while ago, scribbling down notes in binders when something popped into my head. I even woke up at 3 a.m. because I had this sudden flash of what I needed to end this story with. I hope it's what you expected, or maybe even better (hopefully).

If you've been reviewing my story every chapter, thank you so much (you know who you are)! Without your motivation, I don't think this story would have ever been finished. I really can't thank you enough in words, and I hope this chapter will let everyone know just how thankful I really am.

Last person I have to especially thank is Najet (broadwaybaby4205) who has made this story so much better with every beta. I could have never done it without her. I mean, seriously. This girl takes time out of her finals studying time to beta my stuff. What more could I ask for?

**Completed: **January 27, 2009.

Apologies for incredibly long author's note. But…HERE IS THE FINALE! Enjoy and please review (:

* * *

_It's gonna be a heartbeat before  
Death comes knocking on your door  
And then it ain't gonna be your world no more  
You better pray for rain_

_I just wanna tell you that it's love that makes your body move  
It's you that makes the fire blue. It's you  
Afraid to say what love makes  
The sound that love makes  
A sort of hollow ringing  
That won't let the spirit drown_

Pray for Rain  
-Josephine Collective

Chuck's head swims with a million thoughts as he arrives at the Waldorf-Archibald penthouse. He feels more light-headed then he did after his high school hash-smoking days. What would she say? The answer to that question causes his stomach to lurch uncomfortably.

It's so unlike him to be this anxious. He's Chuck Bass, after all. Cool, composed, and always confident. Only Blair can do this to him, which is his only explanation for returning to the one place that makes him feel sick.

He knocks at the door timidly, not wanting to find out the results of his previous question that lay behind the thick, mahogany doors. Knocking louder, he proceeds to yell, "Anyone home?"

No answer.

He reaches into his coat pocket to retrieve his cell phone. He feels around in the deep pocket until he realizes that it's empty. His cell phone is in the car. Annoyance surges through him. Could it be a sign? A sign that he should turn around, leave, and never look back again?

He stoops down onto the stone steps leading to the apartment doors. Might as well wait, considering he has nowhere else to go.

-x-

An hour or so had passed, and Chuck's legs are numbing into the bent position that he has been sitting in. He finally concludes that can't wait forever. He stands up, prepared to walk away, until he feels a drop on his head. _Rain._

The rain continues to increase from small droplets to ferocious pounding. Chuck sits right against the door to protect himself from the hammering rain, but the parts of his shoes and hair are dampening. A car pulls up.

Relieved, Chuck steps away from the door to greet Blair. Shock ripples through his body as he sees her, disheveled clothes and unkempt hair, emerging from the taxi. As she plants a kiss on the man inside the car, Chuck's heart drops. It's Nate.

-x-

He's walking away. He's matching the steady beat of his heart with his footsteps. _Thump. Thump. Thump._ He feels the rain soaking through his clothing, making it stick against his slick skin. His hair is dissolving into a sopping, wet mess. He increases the speed at which he walks to escape the horrid scene as quickly as possible.

"Chuck!" He hears a tinny voice scream amid the thunderous rain.

He refuses to turn around. Turning around is like giving in, and Chuck Bass never, ever gives in.

"Chuck! Stop!" She's gaining on him, and he can hear the quiet pounding of her feet running to catch up with him.

Then she's next to him, panting loudly, trying to catch her breath.

"Blair, go away. I'm leaving," Chuck commands his voice to maintain a harsh tone.

"If you're just going to leave, why did you even come here?" Blair's eyes are spilling with salty tears, mixing with the rain drops falling.

"Blair, I saw you with Nathaniel," Chuck turns around cruelly, breaking free from her frail grip on his arm.

"No! It's not what you think! Nate and I are over!" Blair screams at Chuck, tears flowing harder.

"Really. Because a kiss usually means that everything is over," Chuck shoots back sarcastically. He will not cave at her hypnotic sobs. He will not. She deserves every bitter word he says.

"You can't come back here and yell at me! I haven't done anything to you!" Blair's tiny face turns red with every word she says.

"Really, Blair? You haven't done anything to me? You're killing me. You're killing me, Blair," Chuck voice cracks a little as he looks away to avoid her eyes.

"Chuck…" her voice trails off as she desperately attempts to wipe the tears away.

"What, Blair? It literally hurts to be here. I have to leave," Chuck tells her.

"You think you can just jet off to Spain and expect me to still be waiting for you when you come back, Chuck? You think you're so damn high and mighty; you think that whatever you want, you'll get?" Blair's hands are flying, punctuating her sentences.

Chuck's mouth drops open; that's exactly what he thought would happen.

"Why are you even _here_?" Blair asks, face suddenly turning void of emotion.

Chuck feels his heart slowly crumbling, and decides to answer truthfully. He takes a slow, deep breath and feels himself let go as he begins to explain.

"Why am I _here?_ Because I fucking love you Blair, when are you going to get that? I fly all the way across the fucking world just to come stand in the fucking rain to wait for you. Waiting for you to come home so I can tell you that I don't care if you're having Nathaniel's baby but I want to be here. I want to be here with you through everything. But, I don't think you understand how I felt when I saw you get out of the car and kiss Nate. I felt stupid, Blair. I feel so fucking stupid," Chuck yells back at her.

"Chuck, I…" Blair gasps.

"Look, Blair, spare me the drama. I hope you, Nate, and the rest of the family are happy," Chuck turns to walk away. A tiny hand clenches his arm and turns him back towards her.

"Chuck, I'm not pregnant anymore. It was a miscarriage. Nate took me to the hospital, and we talked. We're done, Chuck. Done," Blair clutches his jacket as he instinctively wraps his arms around her. Suddenly he realizes her words.

"You're not pregnant? You're not…"

"I'm not pregnant, Chuck. The first thing I wanted to do when I found out was tell you, but you've been screening my calls ever since you left. I figured you didn't even care," Blair says softly into his chest.

"You thought I didn't care?" Chuck asks, voice muffled into her hair, "I cared so damn much that it caused me physical pain to stop thinking about you."

Blair drops to the wet, cement sidewalk and curls into a ball, pressing her knees against her chest and wrapping her arms around.

"What's wrong? What did I say?" Chuck says, exasperated. How could he have done something wrong already?

"How do I know you won't pick up and leave again? I can't go through this again. I can't do this," Blair's lip quivers.

"Blair…" Chuck sits next to her, staring at his soaked shoes, "I swear, on my scarf collection, that I will never, ever leave you again. Even when the object of my affection is begging me to." He winks and pulls her closer.

The two sit in silence for a minute. It isn't an awkward silence, but one that conveys more than words can.

"Chuck… Does this mean we're going to be okay?" Blair whispers as she looks up from his gentle embrace.

"Who knows? I'm pretty damn okay right now," Chuck grins.

Chuck feels the warmth of her smile radiating through his soaking wet jacket, and he turns down to look at her. With no lies, secrets, or sins between them, he quickly closes the distance between their mouths. The kiss feels so right, so real. The way their mouths' meld against each others', it's as if they were made together. He uses his free hand to push back her dripping hair away from her face.

"Chuck, we're all wet," Blair sighs, looking at their clothing.

Chuck feels a smirk grace his lips, out of routine. He opens his mouth, "Tha―"

Before the words are out of his mouth, Blair is giving him her trademark glare, "If you say something dirty to ruin the moment, I'll kick your ass."

-x-

They're wrapped in thick towels sitting on the cushy sofa. On Chuck's roof. Of course, Chuck has a thing for rooftops, didn't you know?

Blair scowls at Chuck's comment and swats him on the shoulder.

"So you're saying watching Isabel and Gloria make out didn't turn you on the littlest bit?" Blair teases.

"Nah. It was gross. If it were _you_, that would be a different story," Chuck winks.

"_Ew._ You're so incredibly disgusting. It's a wonder that a twenty-five year old man can still have the brain of a horny eighteen year old," Blair jokes, tugging his sopping hair.

Chuck realizes how much he loves Blair's laugh. It's a tinny little giggle, so innocent, so childish.

"What?" Blair asks, cocking her head, as she notices Chuck staring at her.

"Nothing, you're just…" Chuck explains by placing a gentle kiss on her pouting mouth. Chuck deepens the kiss, pressing his mouth harder against hers. She starts to press kisses down his jaw line. He remembers the last time this happened and the events that occurred directly afterward. He relishes the feeling of Blair's smooth lips against his throat for about ten more seconds before he backs away.

"Blair," he says throatily, "why are you doing this to me?"

"I just said I didn't want to have sex today, not that we couldn't do anything else," she laughs playfully, and climbs onto his lap, straddling him.

"_Blair_. Neither of us has the best self control, so…" he motions at himself growing hard.

She chuckles again, "But it's so funny to watch you freak out." She scrambles off of him.

"Fuck you," he says thickly, trying to will his hard-on away, realizing those words didn't exactly help.

"Picture Dan and Serena in bed," Blair suggests, a glint of mischief twinkling in her brown eyes. "That should get rid of it right away."

-x-

It's been an hour. The two of them just sit on the roof, looking at the beautiful New York night sky. It's one of those memorable days. One for the ages. One that they'll be able to look back and tell their kids about. Chuck winces at that thought. Did he really just think about having kids with Blair? Why doesn't it disgust him as much as it used to? God, he's whipped.

Blair's head is resting lightly against Chuck's shoulder. She turns to look up at him and he feels his head go a little woozy at her seducing smile.

Blair's lips are so close he can feel her warm breath blowing softly against his lips. Her lips gently graze his and it raises the hairs on the back of his neck.

He can feel every touch, every kiss, sending waves down his back, as she whispers against his mouth, "Just for the record, I do love you."

He opens his mouth to protest, "Blair, you don't have to―"

"Shh," she silences him, "Don't worry about it. Just live in this moment."

Forgetting any wavering thoughts he might have, he leans in again, and for once, follows Blair's advice.

**fin.**


End file.
